


Consulting Detective/Giggly Drunk

by bringmayflowers



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drunk!Sherlock, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:32:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringmayflowers/pseuds/bringmayflowers
Summary: "Get Sherlock drunk," they said. "It'll be fun," they said.(It was kind of fun, but John would never admit that to anyone. Sober, at least.)





	Consulting Detective/Giggly Drunk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zigostia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zigostia/gifts).



Sherlock giggles, tracing the swirls on the wooden bar table.

“It’s so pretty.” He giggles some more, sipping at his Long Island Iced Tea. John sighs, slowly sipping at his (he-wish-he-could-drink-more-but-he-is-the-quote-unquote-designated-driver for tonight, even though he’s probably already drunk) drink.

Going out to celebrate Manchester City’s win in the Premier League yesterday seemed like a good idea. So did everyone else, because the small corner bar that John favourites seemed to be crammed with like-minded football fans, cheering and laughing.

It didn’t help that Greg, who persuaded John to get Sherlock drunk once, “ _Just to see what he was like drunk_ ,” had convinced Sherlock that Long Island Iced Tea’s were non-alcoholic, which gave Sherlock the right to chug 4 before someone even stopped him.

Now he was sitting there, mindlessly tracing the swirls on the table, whispering something to the inanimate object, very obviously drunk.

John elbows Greg, on the other side of him, and hisses, “What do I do?”

He only laughs, watching Sherlock finish off yet another Iced Tea, and says, “Not my problem. He’s your roommate.” and smiles triumphantly. John can only exhale deeply, his ( _slightly, he is not drunk!_ ) foggy mind coming up with no available comebacks to that argument.

-+=+=+-

Greg has left after murmured excuses of needing to go home and “water his plants” (just an excuse, probably because he’s is rumoured to get very embarrassing when very drunk), which just leaves John to deal with the drunken mess that is, one (1) Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective of Scotland Yard, John Watson’s significant other, and newly added: giggly drunk.

John scooches his barstool closer to Sherlock, who is now admiring the “pwetty patterns” on the glasses of their drinks, and giggling to himself even harder.

He catches notice of John, and suddenly sits up straight. He points almost an accusatory finger, and before John even has time to react, tell Sherlock to behave, anything, he says in the most “You’re fired,” voice possible, “You’re pretty.”

John’s mind goes blank, the alcohol clearing from his brain, along with everything else. His lack of response seems to be the funniest thing ever, as Sherlock falls in peals of laughter, before abruptly calming to continue sipping on his “non-alcoholic” drink.

John can only set is drink down (in fear of dropping it), and stares back at the man he thought he knew so well, but this epiphany of a night makes him realize he may not know his significant other as well as he thought.

Sherlock seems to also suffer from short term memory loss, because he makes eye contact with John again, except this time slurring out a cheesy pickup line, something along the lines of, “Is your name Google? Because you’re everything I’m searching for!” and breaks into laughter again, this time so hard he’s clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

The unexpected calmness settles in again, and it seems that Sherlock is acting out his own version of 50 First Dates, because he makes eye contact with John, and repeats the whole pickup-line-laughter-calmness charade again a couple times, with lines ranging from, “I’m not a genie, but I can make your dreams come true.” (cue flirty wink) and, “Is it hot in here, or is that just you?” followed by a clink to his glass, still resting on the (pretty, as described by Sherlock earlier), countertop.

(The charade seems much like the plot of the romcom 50 First Dates, which John has heard Molly describe/rant to him in detail multiple times, so well he could probably recite the plot without watching the movie once. Based on his  _superior_ deduction skills, he doesn’t think Molly would try and explain it to Sherlock, with her old crush and current admiration/adoration and all, so he is starting to suspect that Sherlock has seen this. Himself. Alone. In one of his bored states, though John is sure Sherlock, if ever confronted, would try to convince him that boredom caused him to resort to watching romcoms, though John suspects they are Sherlock’s guilty pleasure. He would never admit it though; too much of an ego for him to do that.)

Sherlock comes back with one last pickup line, “There’s only one thing I want to change about you, and that’s your last name.” which in John’s book, is too dangerously close to proposing even though Sherlock is flat-out drunk as a skunk ( _Who even uses that term anymore?_ ) and will definitely not remember anything the next day. Sherlock grabs his sleeve, turns on the barstool (unsteadily), and flags the bartender down.

“Could I have another of what he’s having for him, and another of what he’s having for me too?” He giggles over his slurred speech, his words coming out all in a jumble but still recognizable. The bartender looks to John, the obviously still coherent one for permission, and John shakes his head no, because no way is Sherlock having a whiskey along with the many “virgin” Iced Tea’s to make his headache even worse the next day. (John does, after all, live with the other man and will have to listen to his hangover whining already.)

John has to grab both their jackets and juggle a drunk Sherlock, the latter which is not an easy feat to handle alone. (It’s at this moment John curses out Greg, but he would never admit that.)

It’s finally that when they arrive home and John dumps Sherlock on the bed, finding him fast asleep that he can finally breathe a sigh of relief. He pries Sherlock’s shoes and belt off, and leaves him on the bed in a heap, though covering him up in their blankets to ensure Sherlock doesn’t catch a cold. (Sounds sappy, but if Sherlock gets sick he would never hear the end of it.)

He himself sleeps in the spare room, knowing full well that if Sherlock normally sleeping is a fussy sleeper, drunk Sherlock would be even more so.

-+=+=+-

Sherlock wakes up, his hair in a wild halo above his head and legs tangled in the blankets. (Somehow, John notes later, he managed to strip off all his clothes so thank god he didn’t sleep in the same bed. Imagine those bony limbs hitting him in the middle of the night, plus undressing? John would never be able to sleep.) He stumbles out (thankfully) in his robe, managing not to flash Mrs. Hudson as she hands John his morning cup of tea, reminding him that once again, “I am not their housekeeper,” while he reads his daily paper in his normal armchair.

“What happened last night?” Sherlock manages to croak out, lips and throat as dry as sandpaper. He can only remember flashing lights, faint giggling, then nothing.

“Nothing.” John hides his smile behind his cup. As Sherlock is walking back to their bedroom, John calls out, “Hey,” Sherlock turns. “Have you seen the movie 50 First Dates?”

“No,” He denies, but a look (of being  _caught red-handed?_ ) flashes over his face. “I think I’ve heard Molly mention it in her romcom rants a couple times. Sounds gross and sappy.” Sherlock wrinkles his nose in disgust, then walks off.

John can only laugh as he stares down at the paper, the printed words not even comprehending through his brain.

He knows where he’s taking Sherlock for his birthday later this year.

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday! wrote this up last night from 11pm-2am, so grammar & formatting are terrible. i'm probably never going to finish that oneshot from last year (it took me way too much research and sherlock's sober dialogue is soO mUCH HARDER), but i found this prompt on twitter, and it was really cute and reminded me of them. (most of the stuff in the brackets is 2am chaotic me talking.) <33 can't wait for my fic!! (thanks to M for helping me edit; it was terrible before and is better with your help! <3)


End file.
